


as we go on

by timeinthetardis



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Underworld Arc, Captain Swan - Freeform, Emma and Milah would be besties and I will accept no other reality, F/M, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Ladies Kicking Ass, Underworld (Once Upon a Time), millian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeinthetardis/pseuds/timeinthetardis
Summary: “Hey, wait,” Emma calls, taking a few steps after her. “You never told me your name!”“Milah,” she tosses over her shoulder, not breaking stride, and Emma feels the ground shift beneath her feet.-When Emma arrives in the Underworld to rescue Killian, she runs into an unexpectedly familiar face. 5B canon divergence.





	1. Chapter 1

“Get out of the way!”

Emma barely has time to register the voice before a blur of _something_ (someone?) hits her. They both stumble into an alley, Emma's shoulder hitting the bricks with a painful thud, and she curses under her breath. The faint light from the street lamps fades as they move into the shadows, the stranger gripping Emma's arm.

“What the f-” Emma starts, but a hand covers her mouth immediately, muffling her voice. The alley is narrow enough that there's only a few inches between them, and she can just make out a pair of bright blue eyes in a pale, pretty face.

“Quiet,” the woman hisses. “They'll hear you.”

She raises her eyebrows, staring intently at Emma until she finally nods. Taking her hand away from Emma's face, she quietly pulls a sword from the sheath at her waist, moving to the edge of the alley. Emma peers past her to the street, inhaling sharply as a column of hooded figures marches past.

“They're gone,” the woman says finally, though she doesn't lower her blade. “Come on, quickly, before the next shift.”

Emma follows her out of the alley and onto the abandoned street. “What are those things?”

“A bloody nuisance, is what they are,” the woman mutters. “And dangerous, for people like you.” She turns back to Emma, and out of the shadows there's no mistaking it- there's something about the slant of her chin and the shape of her eyes that's utterly familiar.

“Thanks for the help,” Emma says hesitantly.

“Part of the job,” she says, gesturing down at her outfit. “Sort of.”

“There are crossing guards here?” Emma snorts, staring at the woman's safety vest.

“Really? You’ve somehow ended up in the Underworld, and you’re curious about my _job_?”

“Well- no,” Emma says, crossing her arms. “What I _actually_ want to right now is who the hell you are.”

“Interesting choice of words.” The woman smirks, and Emma huffs out a reluctant laugh. “But I’m the least of your worries right now. I don't know what someone who's still alive is doing down here, but you need to get back home before Hades finds you.”

“I'm not leaving without what I came for,” Emma shoots back.

The woman quirks an eyebrow. “Must be someone important to you, then.”

“Very,” Emma says softly. “And it's my fault that he's here. I have to fix this.”

“Listen to me carefully.” She slides her sword back into its scabbard, her mouth thinning in a hard line as she studies Emma’s face. “I’ve been here for ages now, okay? In all that time, I’ve seen very few people return to life, and none of them have managed it without an immense sacrifice. It doesn’t matter how you feel about this person- trust me, they aren’t worth it. The price is too high.”

“There’s no price too high,” Emma says. “I know it’s dangerous. I already sent my family back home, but I’m not leaving without him.”

“Fine,” the woman sighs. “Fine. I’m not sure why I bothered saving someone on a suicide mission, but- fine. Don’t try to blame me when you’re trapped here for all eternity.” Shaking her head, she turns to walk back to the crosswalk down the street.

“Hey, wait,” Emma calls, taking a few steps after her. “You never told me your name!”

“Milah,” she tosses over her shoulder, not breaking stride, and Emma feels the ground shift beneath her feet.

“What?” she croaks out, because there's no way, she can't possibly have just _stumbled into her_.

But her mind is racing now, remembering the notebook full of sketches Killian had shown her on the Jolly, the portraits of a woman with dark curls and laughing eyes and-

“It _is_ you,” she breathes, and god, but she hadn't even considered the fact that Killian's first love might be down here, that she could run into _Neal's mother_ , that she could ever have the chance to talk to this woman who created such tidal waves in her life.

Milah stops her retreat, glancing back at Emma suspiciously. Whirling on the spot, she pulls her sword out again, stepping forward to bring it just under Emma's chin. “You know me. How?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Emma says, raising her hands in surrender and taking a step away from the blade. “I'm not here to hurt you, I didn't even realize you'd-”

“Don't move,” Milah snaps, and Emma halts, shifting her weight between her feet. “Now. Why don't you tell me who you are and how you know me, because I've never forgotten a face and I don't recognize yours.”

“My name is Emma. Emma Swan. And I know you because-” She hesitates, weighing the odds of Milah believing her against the odds of getting stabbed over how utterly ridiculous the story will sound. “It's complicated.”

“I'm waiting,” Milah says, raising her eyebrows.

Emma sucks in a deep breath. “I knew your son, Baelfire. And- and I'm here for Killian Jones.”

Silence stretches between them, heavy in the air. “How?” she says finally, not lowering the sword. “It's been centuries, and you're clearly not from my time. How could you possibly-”

“Like I said, it's complicated.” Emma nods at the blade. “I'll tell you everything, I promise, but- could you maybe put the sword down?”

Milah narrows her eyes, staring at her for a long moment, before she finally replaces the sword in its scabbard. “I'm listening.”

It takes a while- and they have to take cover in the alley twice, even with Emma only telling the bare bones of the story- but Milah doesn’t interrupt her, face inscrutably blank, one hand always at the hilt of her sword. When Emma finishes (her voice catching slightly as she details Killian’s sacrifice, and god, _it hurts_ ), Milah stares at her for a long moment.

“You said you have his ring?” she says finally, her face still blank. Emma nods. “Show me.”

Slowly, Emma reaches for the chain around her neck, tugging the ring out from under her sweater and taking a step closer. Milah gently runs a finger over the engraved band, tilting it until the red gemstone catches the light.

“It’s true, then,” Milah says. She looks up, meeting Emma’s gaze for the first time in several long minutes.

“Yes.” Emma can’t keep the longing from her voice. “I have to bring him home.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Milah grins, the wide and vibrant smile that Emma recognizes from the sketches, and loops her arm through Emma’s. “Let’s go find him.”

“Wait, you- you’ll help me?” Emma says, blinking rapidly. “You’re not, I don’t know, angry?”

“Angry? Why would I be angry?” She begins towing Emma along the sidewalk.

“Because I-” Emma hesitates, nearly tripping over the edge of the curb as she stares at the other woman. “Because I’m in love with your, er, lover?”

Milah’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Why would that make me angry?”

“Because I- because he-” Emma blows out a frustrated breath, nearly jogging to keep up with Milah’s pace. “Look, most of the people I’ve met from your world are a bit- _possessive_.”

“Right.” Milah nods, pursing her lips as she considers Emma’s words. “Well, you _have_ met my husband, who is still just as possessive as ever.”

“No kidding,” Emma mutters. Milah flashes her a smile.

“But no,” Milah continues, glancing over her shoulder as they turn onto a side street, “I’m not angry. Killian was- _is_ \- gifted in many areas, but he’s not good at being alone. If you love him as he deserves- which it seems you do, as you’re down here to claim him- I’m glad of it.”

“Oh.” She lets the words settle over her for a few seconds. “Wow. Thanks?”

“Besides,” Milah continues, unlocking the front door to a slightly-charred house and steering Emma inside, “he’s not good at being alone. He needs something to devote himself to, whether it’s a cause or a person.” She slams the door behind them, shucking off her safety vest. “He does much better if it’s a person. Causes make him dramatic.”

“Everything makes him dramatic,” Emma says under her breath, and Milah laughs.

“That sounds like Killian.” She opens a small coat closet and begins to dig through it, voice slightly muffled. “Which reminds me, does he still do that thing in bed where he-”

“I, uh, wouldn’t know,” Emma cuts her off. Her face heats up as Milah turns to stare at her, and she’s fairly certain that even her ears are turning pink. “We haven’t exactly- I mean, there hasn’t really been a chance- we’ve, um, been-”

“Wait.” Milah’s eyes widen, and the expression reminds Emma so strongly of Killian that all of the air vanishes from her lungs. “You mean you _haven’t_?”

“It’s not like we aren’t trying to get there,” Emma insists. Milah shakes her head slowly.

“You’re in love with _Killian Jones_ ,” she says dramatically, “and you haven’t even experienced what he’s like in bed? What do you do, just look at each other?”

“We’re usually fighting monsters,” Emma mumbles.

“Gods, this _is_ urgent.” She winks at Emma, diving back into the closet. “We need to get both of you home as soon as possible.”

“Thanks,” Emma says dryly. “I appreciate your support.”

“I haven’t seen him in town, so we’ll have to go find him ourselves.” Milah finally steps back into the hallway, several dark cloaks over her arm, and slams the door. “Which means we probably need to go to the Vaults, unfortunately. Here, put this on, you’ll blend in a bit more.”

“The Vaults?” Emma asks, taking the cloak the Milah shoves into her hands. “What exactly are the Vaults?”

“It’s where Hades keeps the important people,” Milah says, the happy look on her face fading, and rolls her eyes. “That’s where he kept Rumpelstiltskin when he came down here.”

“You’ve been there?”

“I was summoned,” she says, a note of disgust creeping into her voice as she pulls on her cloak. “Hades thought that seeing me would make my former husband unhappy, since he’d found love elsewhere. He was right.”

Emma sweeps the cloak around her shoulders, pulling her gun out of her inner pocket and checking the safety. “Do you think you can get back there?”

“It’s not going to be easy, but yes.” Milah leads the way down the hall and into a small, grotty kitchen. The scarred wooden table glitters with an assortment of swords and daggers, all carefully polished to a bright shine. “You’ll need better weapons. That gun won’t be much help if we encounter any Reapers.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Was it made in the mortal world?” she asks. Emma nods, and Milah shrugs. “Won’t work. Only weapons crafted here in the Underworld have any effect on them, and for some reason guns haven’t caught on.”

“Huh. Okay then.” She flips the safety back on, tucking it into an inside pocket, and surveys the blades spread across the table. “Swords it is.”

“Do you know how to use one?” Milah raises an eyebrow. “Do people even use swords in your time?”

Emma lifts one of the swords from the table, twirling it easily in a decent approximation of one of Killian’s showier moves. “Think so.”

“I knew I liked you,” Milah says, adding a pair of daggers to her own collection. “Take whatever you want. The swordsmith’s an old friend, and he gets bored easily- he’s always asking me to take new toys off his hands.”

Emma nods, giving the sword another experimental swing. Eyeing the table, she picks up a leather cuff that looks suspiciously similar to the one they’d used on Zelena. The familiar tingle of magic snakes up her fingers, and she carefully hooks it through one of her belt loops. Finally, she drops an oddly-modern switchblade down the side of her boot.

A bell rings out, low and eerie, echoing through the tiny house.

Milah freezes, tilting her head slightly. “Seven, not too bad,” she says quietly, reaching over to pull the hood of Emma’s cloak over her head. “New additions.”

“Will that change anything?”

She shrugs. “Anything’s possible down here. If they’re going to the Vaults, we’ll have to take the back way in, but at least the main guards will be focused on the fresh meat.”  Tugging up her own hood, she shoots Emma a wink. “Let’s go find our man, shall we?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milah smirks. “Do you ever use that princess voice on him?”
> 
> _“What?”_
> 
> “Keep it in mind,” Milah advises.
> 
> “Right.” Emma blinks rapidly, shaking her head. “So. Um. Lots of Vaults, two of us, one Killian. Any idea where we should start?”

It’s more straightforward than Emma expects, the journey to the Vaults. Draped in their dark cloaks, they’re more or less invisible to the other residents of the Underworld, and Milah steers them well clear of the other hooded figures patrolling the streets. For the most part, no one seems to care about anything beyond their immediate tasks; Emma is fairly certain that Milah is the only person to look her in the eye since she arrived down here.

Once they clear the town proper, it’s a question of navigating the eerily misty woods, but it really isn’t much worse than any other time she’s stomped through the forest back home. While they walk, Milah regales her with stories about life aboard the Jolly Roger (she’s particularly enthusiastic about an incident involving Killian and a seagull, which makes Emma laugh so hard that they have to stop to let her catch her breath). She finds herself sharing a few memories of her own- Milah wants to know everything about Henry, about Neal, about the beanstalk- and somehow, impossibly, she feels the hard knot in her chest begin to dissolve.

Her parents and Henry had tried their best to get through to her, guiding her gently home after the EMTs had taken Killian’s body away from the lakeside. She’d been vaguely aware of Henry holding her hand for the drive back to the house, of her father gently stroking her hair after she’d collapsed on the couch, of her mother whispering promises to return when they finally gave in to her pleas for solitude. Emma didn’t want their quiet sympathy or their kind hands or their watchful, aching gazes; she’d wanted to let herself sink deep into nothingness, to let the waves of pain break overhead without her participation. Grief wasn’t new to Emma Swan, but this- it was like drowning in static.

Realizing Gold’s deception had eased the haze somewhat, and setting out even made it slightly easier to breathe. She’s always been a woman of action, and the sheer physical effort of getting to the Underworld had set her muscles burning and her mind racing. But it’s now, as she swaps stories with her improbable partner-in-crime, that she begins to feel like she’s coming back to herself.

It isn’t that she expects it to be easy, or that she’d come here with any intention of leaving without him, but it’s comforting to know that no matter what the Underworld tries to throw at her, there’s someone else down here willing to fight for Killian Jones.

“Here we are,” Milah announces, leading the way out of the trees and onto the road. The familiar Storybrooke welcome sign peeks out of a nest of climbing vines, and a crack in the asphalt runs straight through the faded paint of the town line. Tugging off her cloak, she gestures for Emma to do the same, letting the rough fabric pool at her feet. “These won’t help much down there, not if we run into actual Reapers. Ready?”

They step over the line together.

The scenery shifts immediately, arched walls closing over their heads. Torches capped with blue flames flicker every few feet, though the weak light does little to lessen the oppressive darkness that seems the ooze from the ceiling. A scream breaks through the silence; it hangs in the frigid air for a moment, before all sound evaporates again.

“This way,” Milah whispers, pulling out her sword as she starts forward. Emma mirrors her, the weapon a soothing weight in her hand, and tries very hard not to think about the source of the scream.

“How do you know your way around here, anyway?” she asks.

 “When Hades brought me in, I realized I wasn’t as invisible as I’d imagined,” Milah says. “Thought it would be good information to have if he decided to lock me up.”

“Makes sense.”

“I thought so. But I don’t know much about the cells, I’ve just learned the way in and out.” She glances over at Emma, frowning. “Perhaps I should have come to scout on my own before bringing you here.”

“Definitely not,” Emma says. “This doesn’t seem like a one-person operation.” Milah shakes her head and Emma reaches out, grabbing her arm. “Hey. _We_ are going to find him, and _we_ are going to get him out of here. Together. Okay?”

“Okay,” Milah says. Emma releases her, and Milah smirks. “Do you ever use that princess voice on him?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Keep it in mind,” Milah advises.

“Right.” Emma blinks rapidly, shaking her head. “So. Um. Lots of Vaults, two of us, one Killian. Any idea where we should start?”

“I was thinking that perhaps…” Milah trails off, staring over at her, and abruptly shoves her sword back into its scabbard.  

“That perhaps?” Emma repeats, keeping a firm grip on her own weapon.

“You have magic,” Milah breathes.

“Um. Yeah, I do,” Emma says. “What does that have to do with-”

“Emma, _you have magic_!” She begins digging through her pockets, humming under her breath. “Ah! Here we are. Have you ever done mirror magic?”

Emma stares at the object in her hand. “Is that a compact?”

“Is that what it’s called?” Milah tilts her head. “What an odd name. I found it at the diner a few weeks ago, and you never know when a spare bit of glass might be useful.” She pops it open and offers it to Emma, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “So. Mirror magic?”

“I’ve only done it once,” Emma says, looking down at her tiny reflection. “But I think I can do it again.”

Closing her eyes, she lets the faint buzz of magic rise to the surface of her skin, feeling it slowly seep into the mirror. She pulls her memories of Killian to the front of her mind, reaching for him through the distance. _I will find you. I will always find you._

“Emma,” Milah whispers, and she opens her eyes. The surface of the glass ripples, the compact emitting a silvery light that warms her palm. As they watch, a figure swirls into focus, the image becoming clearer by the second. “That’s him.”

Killian sits on a tiny island of rock, his figure illuminated by the glow of what looks like green water around him. Slumped over his knees, he is utterly motionless, little more than a dark shadow against the stone. Emma’s heart clenches, a pulse of magic traveling from her hand to the mirror; Killian looks up for a moment, staring around him, before bowing his head again.

“Where is he?” Emma says softly. The mirror glows brighter, but the image remains static. “ _Show me_ ,” she hisses, sparks flying from her fingertips, and the scene changes to show the tunnel in front of her. She takes a step forward, and the mirror copies her exactly.

“Brilliant,” Milah says, pulling her sword loose again. “I’ll guard, you guide. Stay close.”

The mirror leads them from the passageway to a larger cavern. As they move inside, the image swings to the right, and they follow along, ducking into an identical tunnel that slopes steadily downwards. Left, right, then left again, they cross swinging rope bridges and squeeze through narrow fissures of rock. The temperature drops slowly, the initial chill of the upper levels giving way to a bitter cold that burns Emma’s cheeks.

They’re in the middle of an enormous cavern when something hisses.

“What was that?” Emma whispers, staring out into the shadows, and the air around them explodes with shrieks and growls. Several large figures loom out of the darkness, their hooded cloaks falling back to reveal raw faces set with glowing white eyes.

 “Emma, duck!” Milah's voice rings out through the chaos. Emma drops instantly, feeling the swift swing of the blade over her head more than she hears it. The other woman rushes to her side, expertly parrying the next blow, and giving Emma enough time to stash the compact before pulling out her own weapon. “Damned things, always getting in the way.”

“What are they?” Emma pants, straightening up. She shifts until they're standing back to back, swords at the ready, watching the creatures form a loose ring around them in the mist.

“Reapers,” she replies. “People who sold their souls in life, and couldn’t take them back in death.”

“These are all _people_?”

“ _Were_ people,” Milah corrects. “There's not much left to them that's human.”

One lunges at them, teeth bared, and Emma lands a hard kick against its shoulder. It stumbles away, vanishing in a puff of gray smoke.

“Good form,” Milah says appreciatively. The familiar words catch somewhere in Emma’s chest, reverberating against her bones. “They’re a nasty bunch, but they aren’t impossible to defeat. Just have to stay on your toes.” She slashes the air as another Reaper leaps from a boulder, catching it just under the ribs and sending it flying in the opposite direction. “We must be getting close, Hades likes to keep them right by the cells.”

Emma blocks a Reaper with her sword, matching it blow for blow until she knocks the blade from its hands. “I will never understand the employment system down here.”

“Let’s hope not.” Milah dispatches an opponent with a few quick hits. Between the two of them, they make short work of the rest of the Reapers, the last one vanishing with an ear-splitting howl. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Milah waves away the cloud of smoke. “How far away is Killian?”

Emma pulls out the compact with her free hand, glancing down at the tiny mirror. The image flies across the rest of the cavern, swiveling into a tunnel that splits into three paths. It hangs in the air for a moment, then takes the center choice, following a curve in the tunnel. Moving even faster, it zooms through a bright green light to reveal Killian, his head resting on his knees.

“Not far at all,” she says, nearly giddy as she meets Milah’s gaze. “One more tunnel and we’re there.”

Milah grins. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting, then."

A flurry of growls erupts behind them, and Emma shoves the compact back into her pocket as more Reapers appear, streaming towards them in a wide column. There are easily triple the number they originally faced, and Emma bites back a groan as they continue to fill the cave.

“I guess that was only round one,” she mutters.

Milah glares over at the approaching herd. “Hades must’ve figured out we’re down here. We need to get Killian out before he moves him somewhere else.”

“You didn’t bring any secret grenades or flamethrowers, did you?” Emma rolls her shoulders, hopping on the tips of her toes to warm up. “It’s going to take a while to clear them out.”

“Which is exactly why you should go,” Milah says. “Get a head start.”

Emma stares at her. “Wait, what?”

“Emma, _go_ ,” Milah snaps, giving Emma a shove as she turns to face the pack. “They can't hurt me, but I can slow them down.”

“I'm not leaving you,” Emma says fiercely, adjusting her grip on her sword, but Milah shakes her head.

“Don't be ridiculous, you have to get to Killian and you can't do that with Reapers trailing you like rabid puppies.” Milah pushes her again, nodding down the path. “Go on, rescue him, Swan. Isn't that what you do, in all those stories you told me? Rescue each other?”

“You deserve to see him again,” Emma insists, but she can't quite keep from glancing over at the entry to the tunnels across the cavern. Her skin buzzes with repressed energy, the hope bubbling in her chest threatening to overwhelm her because he's _there_ , he's right there, all she has to do is keep going and she'll see his face again-

“Wait for me, then,” Milah says, pulling a dagger from inside of her jacket. “I'll meet you after I get rid of this lot. Now get out of here.”

“Milah-”

“Go!” 

Cursing under her breath, Emma swivels on her heel and begins to run, following the path she’d seen in the mirror. Milah takes off in the opposite direction, diving directly into the shadowy mass. The howls and cries of the Reapers echo menacingly in the dark tunnel, but it’s the sudden crack of Milah’s laughter that keeps her from turning back.

She comes to the forked path and pelts down the center, nearly losing her balances as she slides across the slick stones. Rounding a corner, she stumbles into the largest cavern she’s seen yet. She slows to a walk, boots sinking into dark sand as she reaches edge of a pool of glowing water. The greenish liquid casts long shadows across the walls, flowing ceaselessly in a perfect circle, and she realizes with a bolt of dread that the rock island at the center of the pool is empty.

“Killian?” she calls, squinting across the water. The sounds of the fight raging behind her dissolve into silence, broken only by the occasional soft splash. “Killian?”

“He can’t hear you, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to stay updated on my writing (or join the fun of constant CS blogging), please feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://in-each-place-and-forever.tumblr.com/) and/or my [writing tumblr](http://distinct-elements-of-speech.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This one is turning out to be a bit longer than I anticipated- but that's not a bad thing, right?

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to stay updated on my writing (or join the fun of constant CS blogging), please feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://in-each-place-and-forever.tumblr.com/) and/or my [writing tumblr](http://distinct-elements-of-speech.tumblr.com/).
> 
> (Title is from [ the graduation song](https://youtu.be/foyAOoVagWw) because it's been stuck in my head all day - I'm so sorry y'all.)


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